


Knife

by BelaBirch



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelaBirch/pseuds/BelaBirch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please drop a comment if you enjoyed it! I'm really hoping for some more feedback on my writing, I'd appreciate it so so much.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Please drop a comment if you enjoyed it! I'm really hoping for some more feedback on my writing, I'd appreciate it so so much.

She expected it. 

The knife in her back didn’t come as a surprise.  
The searing pain was one she greeted with resignation.  
So it was today.  
But still she gasped, stumbled. She was acutely aware of the way the knife twisted inside her as she lurched forward.  
The ridges between the tiles pressed into her fingers and she bit her lip.  
Her breath hitched as she felt strong, rough fingers latch into her hair.  
She had expected it wouldn’t be gentle. It was murder after all.  
The fingers twisted in her hair, yanking a strangle yelp from her troat.  
The water sloshed as she slipped, her body weight pulling on her hair for a moment before she regained her footing.  
Her eyes were stinging now.  
She blinked rapidly, trying to stay still, trying to avoid that stinging pain.  
Her vision was starting to go black now, the pain was so great.  
She could feel the trickle of blood down her back, the knife still stemming the flow.  
She wanted to reach back, to scratch it away.  
She didn’t and the hand in her hair grew heavier, forcing her to her knees.  
Her nails scraped the tiles as she tried to keep from falling.  
Her knees met the floor of the tub but the hand continued, forcing her face into the water. She turned her head, sucking in a breath in preparation. But the force lessened when her elbows hit the tub. She stayed still, waiting, on her her knees and elbows.  
She stayed still, waiting, on her knees and elbows. She felt fingers pression up her back, her skin contracting at the contact, her nerves on edge as they traveled closer to the knife.  
Gentle fingers brushed the trail of blood away.  
She stared at the ground, her heart calming some. Her jawa was wrenched to the side, her chin tightly clasped between finger and thumb.  
Her breath was caught again. she had to drag it in and once it was there it wouldn’t come back out.  
She turned her eys away as her face was made to face her attacker. The grip on her jaw tightened, her neck twisting uncomfortably higher.  
That will leave a bruise, she thought.  
No. It won’t.  
“Look at me.” the voice was commanding, rough. Seething.  
She obeyed. A whimper escaped her throat as she met his eyes. Pale, soft blue, surrounded by those dark lashes, so strange below his pale brows.  
Those brows. How she’d love to reach out and smooth her thumb across them. Her hand twitched. He was so close…  
Her thoughts scattered out of her mind.  
He kissed her. Soft and chaste and not enough. Never enough.  
Now she was crying. Crying as she pressed her lips aganinst his, unable to draw him closer, the way she so desperately longed to.  
“Shh…Shh.” His voice was so gentle. She only cried harder. He brushed her tears away with his blood stained thumb.  
He pressed a kiss against her forehead and stood back up. he released her chin and she looked back at the water.  
Her back hurt so bad now. she whimpered again.  
She felt his hand on her back, grasping the hilt of the blade.  
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. he yanked the knife from her back. she dissolved into the wracking sobs, the pain overwhelming her.  
She heard a sigh, felt a gentle hand in her hair, stroking it. Another hand reached in front of her, wiping the tears away again.  
He murmered soft, sweet nothings to her, stroking her, petting her until she calmed.  
Her eyes were puffy now. She drew in a shuddering breath.  
He waited until she released it and then his hand latched into her hair once again.  
He shoved her face into the water. she barely managed to suck in a breath before she went under.  
She thought maybe she should’ve struggled. That maybe if she struggled she would’ve been shown the mercy she didn’t deserve.  
But she didn’t.  
She was so tired.  
Tired of waiting.  
The warm, soapy water stung her wound. her lungs grew tight with air until she couldn’t hold it any longer.  
She gasped for air but found water instead.  
That basic, life-preserving instict kicked in and she struggled against him.  
her hands found no purchase on the slick porcelain. her eys were wide, stinging with water.  
The hand on the back of her head didn’t relent. It didn’t waver or stutter. There was no uncertainty in it’s grip.  
But his other hand gently clasped hers, squeezing firmly, comfortingly.  
She gasped another breath of water, her lungs straining desperately. and then she went still.  
Her hand gripped his tightly, painfully, and then it let go.  
Her body collapsed into the water, suddenly looking pale and fragile.  
A sigh floated on the air. A soft apology.  
His hands turned her over. Laid her on her back. They rinsed her hair, dried her off.  
They handled her with the utmost care, lifting her from the water. They supported her head as they dressed her wound.  
And they stuttered now and then, dressing her neatly in a dress. They faltered as remorse found it’s way into the muscles.  
He lifted her into his arms, layi ng her head gently against his chest.  
He bore her to her bed, tucking her in neatly, his hands making quick work of folding the blankets around her.  
They brushed her hair back from her face, laid her hands gently clasped together.  
They faltered, above her eyes. Her eyes stared at him, wide and suprised.  
He froze a moment, lost in her eyes. His fist clenched as emotions rolled over him.  
Another sigh and he reached out and gently closed her eyes, a thumb brushing over the soft skin of her eyelids.  
Another kiss on her smooth, white forehead and he straightened.  
He just watched her there, several moments passing with only the sound of his breath to be heard.  
He smiled. It was a haunted, pained smile. It was a pleased, relieved smile.  
He flipped out the light and admired the way her pale skin glowed in the dark.  
He watched her as she lay there and he smiled.  
“Go to sleep now.”


End file.
